


Happy For You

by drarryangels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drarry, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Through the years of Hogwarts, eighth year, pansy pov, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Each year that passes, Pansy sees Draco get worse and worse. More depressed, more withdrawn, more trapped. Worse in every way that she can imagine. She had once thought that destiny would save them. There was a way things were meant to be, after all. But with each year, Pansy's faith in the world, and in Draco, fails a little bit more.





	Happy For You

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

I always thought you would fall for me. It was expected from the beginning. But from the second Harry Potter rejected your handshake, I knew it was all over.

You and I had grown up together, and I knew your family well. We were both too familiar with their opinions on same-sex relationships, so I figured I would still have a chance with you. Once you realized that Potter was off limits, everything would be back on track. 

When Potter caught the Remembrall his first time on a broomstick, you cried. Then you raged to me for weeks about how Potter was too good at everything for his own good. You ranted all year about Potter this and Potter that. I hoped desperately that it was just a first year obsession, and that you’d get over it over summer break. 

But then Potter had to go and save the Philosopher’s Stone and nearly get himself killed in the process. You didn’t sleep at all the whole time he was in the hospital wing. You just sat in front of the common room fire and told me over and over that Potter was an idiot. I told myself, again, that it was a weird crush, and that it would go away. 

Summer holidays were boring that year. We drank tea and you speculated on what Potter was doing. I fell asleep four times while you talked. 

Second year rolled around eventually, and you had that duel with Potter at Lockhart’s wretched dueling club. He spoke Parseltongue that day I remember. You were so shocked. How dare the golden Gryffindor boy speak Parseltongue in front of everyone. In the beginning of your whole Parseltongue betrayal, I figured you were jealous that he could speak Parseltongue and you couldn’t. Later on, I realized you felt betrayed because you thought that Potter should have been in Slytherin. And then maybe the two of you wouldn’t hate each other so much. 

In the middle of second year, Potter and Weasley somehow got their hands on Polyjuice Potion and sneaked into the Slytherin common room to question you. You told me the story a whole three weeks after it happened. I levitated you up to the girls dormitories and you cried so hard that your face turned blue and snot dripped all over my sheets. You told me then that you had known that they suspected you as the Heir from the beginning. You were so mad about it that you had egged them on, hoping that they would make themselves look like idiots. I suppose later, you were the one who felt like the idiot. You said that you knew right away that Harry bloody Potter was behind Goyle’s face. You said you would know him no matter what face he was wearing. 

Then Potter nearly got himself killed again, and your father made you watch his memory of Dumbledore’s office over and over again because he somehow knew how much it pained you to see Harry Potter covered in blood. Or maybe he just thought you would enjoy it.

I didn’t come around for tea often that summer. I don’t think you noticed. 

You were the most dramatic in third year, I believe. You milked the injury from that damned hippogriff just so that Potter might notice you and maybe even ask if you were alright. But he ended up getting pissed at you, and then your father was taking things too far, and everything was out of control. All you ever wanted was for Potter to notice you. 

The next year, when the Triwizard Tournament began, you trashed the boy’s dormitories. Blaise ended up kicking you to the couch in the common room for two weeks. That’s when you made the badges. You didn’t give a shit about Cedric Diggory, but Potter meant everything. But he couldn’t know you cared, so you made the badges that way he would know that you acknowledged him, but that you still hated him. 

Everything was all games and teasing until the last task. When the Portkey came back, everyone cheered. But not you. You screamed. You knew before all of them had even an idea of what had happened. The sound tore out of your mouth viciously. But nobody heard it but me. You shoved to get to the front, but you just couldn’t reach him. I stood on top of the stands to see him. That was the first time I saw what you saw in him. He was covered in blood, and I could see black hair drying in coils of rust. He wasn’t moving. Just curled up in a ball on the ground with his hands over his head. Cedric was next to him, clearly dead, and considerably less handsome than how he had looked when he was alive. Potter looked so small, lying there with endless cheers and crowds crushing in on him. I don’t know what it was, but I saw it.

I found your face, and when you looked up, your cheeks were splotchy and your eyes were puffy. I nodded to you and even from where I was standing, I could see the profound relief on your face as it sunk in that he was alive. Potter was alive.

Fifth year was even worse. You had somehow managed to convince yourself that Potter meant nothing to you, and you became even more brutal in vying for his attention. 

Our parents discussed an arranged marriage between us for after the war was over, and you agreed immediately. You didn’t put up a fight for yourself, and you didn’t put up a fight for me. Marriage is something neither of us wanted, and you went and gave our future away. 

Umbridge only pulled you further down. You absolutely adored her, and I think most of it was because you knew how much Potter loathed her. And, of course, you knew the punishments she gave out in her detentions, and I know you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.

The moment you saw the bandage around Potter’s hand, it was like the shining light you had crafted around Umbridge had suddenly fallen away. You had horror written all over you. You knew it was coming, I’m sure. Potter always had such a sharp tongue. But you never mocked Potter about the bandage, and you didn’t talk so much about Umbridge anymore.

We didn’t interact at all the summer before sixth year. Our friendship had crumbled slowly over the course of fifth year until it had simply collapsed. With Voldemort setting up base in your home, there was no time for reconciliation.

But when it came time to board the Hogwarts Express, you acted like we were lovers, and I couldn’t complain. After all, I was finally getting what I thought I had always wanted. But then Harry Potter just had to sneak into our compartment under that idiotic cloak. I wouldn’t have known he was there if it weren’t for the look on your face and the way your whole body coiled with tension. You sat up and leaned away from me. 

No one saw much of you that year. Especially not me. But I saw the food you left untouched, and I saw the bitten down nails, and I saw the bags under your eyes, and I knew what had happened. And yet, I did nothing to reach out to you. 

Harry Potter tore your body apart with a spell. When Blaise visited you in the hospital wing, you said that you were glad Potter had done so. I did not understand. Apparently you did because once you got out of the hospital wing, you went to Gryffindor Tower and when you came back down, you weren’t smiling, but you were glowing.

I know for a fact that when you met with Dumbledore, he told you to let Death Eaters into the school so that you could act as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore’s infamous organization. But you never wanted to be a spy. You just wanted to be safe and happy. 

Snape let the Death Eaters in and gave you the credit. The Order of the Phoenix stopped them for you, and when the Death Eaters ran, so did you. You became Dumbledore’s spy after all. 

When we came back to Hogwarts for seventh year, you knew he wasn’t going to be there, but you still looked for him. I don’t know how close the two of you were at that point, but him being gone devastated you in a way I could never fathom. You were so lost, always looking around corners for his smile and his stupid scar. 

Over the holidays, I found a stack of letters that you had written to him and never sent. You wrote about how worried you were, and how nothing was the same without him. You were so in love with him, and I don’t think you could even see it for yourself.

Your letters talked about everything and nothing. All the things you wanted to tell him, and all the things you couldn’t. I was shocked when I read some of the things you had written. The stories behind the scars on your body. The way you felt when you were around him. The horrors happening at Hogwarts. All of the intimate details of your favorite books. How you had attempted suicide four times. 

Once when you tried to slice your life away from your arms. McGonagall found you. 

Once where you nearly jumped off the Astronomy Tower, but ended up just falling asleep there under the stars. 

Once where you almost overdosed on Theo’s anxiety medications. You didn’t say in that letter what saved you.

And one where you tried to blast yourself with your own wand, but you couldn’t because Harry Potter had put a shield charm between you and yourself. 

But despite all of your failed attempts, you were still dying. Slower, though. The last time I had seen you eat a full meal was back in fifth year. You didn’t play Quidditch, you didn’t read, or make yourself tea, and you did barely enough to get by in school unnoticed. It was all wrong.

For the first time in my life, I wished Potter had been there to come and save you. 

But he wasn’t there, and he didn’t save you.

Seventh year passed in agony, ending with the Battle of Hogwarts. I left immediately with all the younger students, but when it was all said and done, I came back to the Great Hall. For you, and Theo, and Blaise. My best friends. I wanted you all alive so desperately. It was selfish of me to leave you there to fight all alone. But I had left because I didn’t know which side I would fight for. 

When I arrived, I found Blaise and Theo and hugged them as tightly as I could. They were alive. I searched for you, but Theo rested a hand on my arm and smiled with relief. “He’s with Potter,” he said. 

That summer, I didn’t see you at all. I wasn’t upset about it anymore, though. I traveled to help rebuild shops and homes that had been destroyed and terrorized by Voldemort. It was therapeutic in a perfect way. 

When I arrived back at Hogwarts for the start of eighth year, you greeted me with a genuine smile. Maybe the first genuine smile I had seen on you ever. 

You led me around Hogwarts, pointing out restoration projects and places where we had once held good memories from a past life. 

You introduced me to Harry, your boyfriend. 

Harry kissed your cheek and hugged you tightly, and you shone like a beacon. I could see the grief in your eyes, and the scars on your mind and body that would never heal. But there was hope in you and for you. 

And finally, I was happy for you.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated!


End file.
